Page 78 of Fast Currents
“You say that like it’s a compliment.”
“It is,” she said, deadpan. “Idle Robertson men are a menace.”
Chapter 31 – Clay
Dad and I puttered around the kitchen, starting holiday prep while my mom and Lucy went to yoga. We prepped and chopped, listening to NPR, each focused on our individual tasks. At lunch, we drove to town and met up with Lucy and my mom at the fish and chips place on Spring Street. Maybe it was my imagination, but my mother seemed slightly more relaxed. I hadn’t pulled my mom aside yet, but it was important to me that she give Lucy a chance. I didn’t want my wife and my mother at odds.
Not just because I loved them both, though I did, but because the idea of always having to stand between them made my chest tight. I wanted us to be a family. I wanted them to like each other. Hell, I needed it.
“Mom, do you want to come home with Dad and me? I can give you a ride, let Lucy get some work done.”
“Didn’t you want me to spend time with your new girlfriend?”
I bit back the urge to correct her. Lucy and I had decided to wait to tell my folks about our engagement until Thanksgiving.Give them time to get to know her first, even if it was only a couple of days.
“I’ll bring her home safe and sound later this afternoon,” Lucy said. “I’ve got a little project in mind that she can help with at the studio.”
“See? Settled,” my mom said.
I kissed Lucy’s cheek and watched them walk away, tension riding my shoulders. I wanted to believe it would be fine. I just wasn’t sure Idid.
“Don’t worry, son. I can tell how much you want them to like each other. Your mom can be a tough nut to crack, but it’s a good sign that they’re both eager for more time together.”
“If you say so.”
I immersed myself in holiday prep, glancing up at the clock in surprise when Lucy called from the front door, “We’re home.”
Wiping my hands on a kitchen towel, I joined them in the living room. My dad had long abandoned me, choosing an afternoon nap over more time as my sous chef. Lucy looked tired, but not upset. My mom’s face was serene, giving away nothing.
I leaned in, dropping a quick kiss on Lucy’s mouth. “Good day?”
She nodded. “Yes. Your mom is a natural.”
I winked at my mom. “Must be all that hot air.”
She tilted her head, her gray curls bobbing gently against her cheek. “Be careful, Clayton Carlton Robertson. It’d be more gentlemanly to chalk up how easily I learned to Lucy’s skill as a teacher.”
Lucy snickered, turning her face into my shoulder. “He’s always been like this, hasn’t he?” she asked, laughter laced through her voice.
My mom sniffed, then smiled—just barely. “Oh, worse. You’re seeing the grown-up version.”
“This isgrown-upClay?” Lucy asked, mock-horrified. “Yikes.”
“You see my concern,” Mom deadpanned, arms crossed but eyes glinting.
“I’m right here,” I muttered.
They ignored me.
“You’ll learn,” Trish said to Lucy, voice dry. “The trick is to let him believe he’s in charge, then do whatever you were going to do anyway.”
Lucy bit her lip, clearly delighted. “That’s... excellent advice.”
“I need to change,” my mom said, pivoting toward the hallway, “and then I’ll be ready for dinner. Don’t let him weasel out of cleaning up his mess in the kitchen.”
“I won’t,” Lucy promised.
Her nod in Lucy’s direction came with a faint smile, like she was pleased to have someone else to boss me around for once.
